


Ascendency of Menace

by TechnicalZombie



Series: Villains and Heroes [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Gen, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25979869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnicalZombie/pseuds/TechnicalZombie
Summary: Rewrite of the original frantically written 2am story! More to come!
Relationships: Pulsar/Menace
Series: Villains and Heroes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814566
Kudos: 3





	1. Menace #1 - Attack of The Darkness!

You are Menace; Villain Premier, Mega-Genius Inventor, The Ultimate Robber Baron [who robs from other robber barons], The People's Villain, and one day the shroud of your diabolical influence will blanket this city. It's something you've known since the beginning [at least that's what you tell people], from your debut when you stole an entire bank, to that one time you tried to mind-control Sol Brother with technology [and got rightly bodied for it]. Sure, it _looks_ like you've spent the last fifteen years staggering from one ill-conceived or incredibly brilliant [no middle sliders] scheme to the next, with no clear long-term goal in mind. And yes, maybe almost all of your secret lairs have been compromised by your arch nemesis [and according to you, close personal friend] Pulsar, the city's most powerful, popular, gorgeous, clever, utterly flawless [ok enough of that] superhero. It may also be true that your last scheme finally ended with you captured and imprisoned; never mind that with your money and influence, you've managed to bribe your way into the literal equivalent of a five-star hotel room complete with a miniature version of your personal workshop. All of these things are minor details within your overall legend.

You are Menace, and your city is in danger.

At first it was nothing serious. A super-powered villain rolls into town one morning, claiming there are no true heroes and he will lead the world into a new age of order if they will submit to him. "I am The Darkness!" he claims, and proceeds to spout some drivel about how he is inside all heroes and their impurity gives him power. He then proceeds to float ominously above the city center, shouting about how only the truly strong may accept his challenge. It's all very dramatic. But you are in jail, without your best tools, and you promised Pulsar you'd stay in jail too, on the condition that she join you for dinner once a week. Not for any reason other than extracting a promise from the city's premier superhero, of course. Certainly not because you've been nursing a deep-seated crush on her for over a decade. Definitely not because her banter is thrilling, her physique and looks stunning, the raw power of her presence intoxicating [ok settle down, deep breaths, don't think about her scent, that hint of jasmine and ozone]. Naturally this doesn't prevent you from making _some_ minor preparations. Your new prototype is nearly ready, after all. Meanwhile, Pulsar is off assisting someone outside the city.

Some think it's a sign of a new stage of Pulsar's career. She just finished two years mentoring a new group of young heroes called Pantheon on the East Coast. And now she's being asked to help others outside the city. Rumor has it, Watchtower has been looking at her for a long time.

Pulsar's absence seems to frustrate The Darkness. Nobody else has tried to challenge him. Why try it? If he is content to float and rant all day, that's fine. Anyone who approaches without hostility merely gets proselytized at about the hypocrisy of "those who name themselves hero" among other things. There's a lot of rhetoric about survival of the fittest and weeding out the weak as well. You dismiss it as typical right-wing reactionary poison. But it turned out he meant business when he leveled the Central Business Building. The oldest major structure in Xanadu. And an office building where hundreds work.

It's been a long time since the last time the city sirens went off. Those long wavering alarms that seem to carry a sense of calm urgency and barely repressed panic. It's a sound you incorporated into your Tuned Disruptor a long time ago. It's been a long time since you saw Pulsar strike someone at full power. Really full power, the kind of full power that involves her pushing so far past Mach 1 the air around her combusts and her approach looks like a meteorite coming in at a lot angle. You know how fast she can move in an emergency.

She arrives like a bolt of fire fired by angry vengeful gods, the kind for whom the term "mercy" translates to swift destruction instead of a long slow doom. Pulsar is not _quite_ powerful enough to stand among the gods, but in a pinch, a demi-god is fine too. It's not weird that her approach is _felt_ by the city before the dust of the CBB has even finished rising into the air. There's no way The Darkness is prepared for her strike. The hyper-sonic boom of her arrival shatters glass across a quarter of the city. Their impact actually causes an explosion that destroys the tip of the tallest building in the central ring. They both impact in Scrapyard #4, one of the thirteen hyper-toxic landfills surrounding the city [except for #2, of course], sending up a cloud of hazardous waste. Almost immediately the thunder of super-powered fists and a laser light show of energy projections begin emanating from the impact site.

Maybe you should prepare for…something. Just in case.

It doesn't take long for the news to pick up on the fight. Helicopters try to keep up. Every so often they got a shot of The Darkness or Pulsar, impacting the streets, being hurled through a building, getting hammered by blows that shatter nearby windows with their overpressure. The newscasters are marveling at Pulsar's power, how she's apparently fighting with all her strength for the first time in years, speculating on how much longer the invader will last. They're idiots, of course, or optimistic. They don't know her like you do. If she could move the fight out of the city, she would have. She never goes all out inside the city anymore. She tried and failed when they hit the scrapyard. She's being driven through the city. She's trying not to hit buildings with her blasts and it's giving the invader an advantage, one he doesn't knee. She's taking too many hits, not connecting with enough of her own. You've made a career out of correctly estimating your opponent's abilities. You've made a bunch of guesses about The Darkness already. One though you do know for certain, he's stronger than she is. Then one of news choppers gets a good look at her. Her hood is shredded, her mask gone, her suit is damaged, she's bleeding and it's not slowing. She can't spare the power to even heal herself of minor wounds right now.

You need to hurry.

Minutes later you're rushing towards the scene. You're as ready as you can be, not quite your usual self. No Tuned Disruptor, no armor besides your powered Machine Weave suit, no weapons besides an untested prototype and your Meta-Magnetic Manipulators. All that, and your Augmented Reality sensors, all integrated into your suit and hooded cloak, feeding into your mask, and the link to Mind, Artificial Intelligence extraordinaire and one of your oldest partners in crime.

"This is a bad idea." Mind informs you as your hurry to the battle.

"Naturally."

"You'll probably die." Mind adds, as if you're not perfectly aware of this.

"It wouldn't be the first time." You counter. Not bothering to remind them that last time that happened you'd faked your death to draw Pulsar into a trap.

"If you die can I have your stuff?"

You arrive before you can answer.

Darkness stands over her. Gods he's such a chad, that fucking skintight suit and codpiece, that gods-damned cape, what is even with that bizarre mask, who does he think he is?

He begins to gloat. Time to strike.

"Now, false hero, you will-!"

**_FWAKOOOOMMNN~!_ **

Gloating, the great weakness of villains, second only to monologuing. You're glad you thought to stop by a trainyard on your way here. The freight engine that plows into The Darkness [gods that's such a melodramatic name, at least your name is descriptive and cool], misses Pulsar by mere inches, turning the invader into a hood ornament in much the same way a butterfly becomes a hood ornament when it's plastered across the grill of an oncoming semi-tractor. Fifty meters later the entire thing detonates. Heavy magnetic manipulations generate heat, after all, and the impact sets off all the fuel, as well as every other hydrocarbon [like hydraulic fluid], in the machine.

You touch down next to Pulsar. She's in bad shape [gods, you've never seen her like this], and arm and shoulder clearly broke, you can see the crushed clavicle too, her good arm holds her ribs, the way she's breathing they must be broken. The harsh, wet, rattle sound in her breathing sounds like blood in the lungs. One eye is swollen shut. You never managed anything like this, not even those super-soldier alien mercenaries you hired, the ones that claimed to be from the Andromeda Galaxy, managed this. And gods, she's tough! She's still trying to stand and fight! She manages to get to one knee, her power sparking around her, barely manifesting.

"Come to gloat?" She asks, smiling weakly with bloodied teeth. She spits on the ground, a tooth and a wad of dark blood.

"Maybe later." You promise. You've never bothered to disguise your voice to her, not even in the old days. "Don't go anywhere." You tell her as you begin walking towards The Darkness, towards your new enemy.

"No promises." She rasps.

You're not idle, as the invader tosses the destroyed fright engine aside, you're never doing just one thing. Among the several things you're doing, is keying your vocal disruptor. It's not the Tuned Disruptor, at worst, it's grating and annoying. It sets people's teeth on edge. Maybe you don't want this guy on edge. You decide to put him there anyway. You begin a slow clap, sauntering forward, dripping with confidence you don't feel. Filled with fake self-assurance and projecting every inch of the fake feeling outwardly. You are not concerned by the burning wreckage, the devastated street, the screams of panicked civilians in the distance. Nothing can harm you; you are Menace.

"Oh… _well_ done!" You say, your voice a harsh multi-tonal anti-symphony of disharmony. "Very well done. Quite the show!"

His long glare gives you a moment to review what you've learned. He's physically stronger than Pulsar by at least five orders of magnitude, nothing seems to harm him, he'd not harmed by extreme heat up to 1500 celcius, nor even slowed by liquid helium. Pulsar gave you a lot of data on him, and for that you're grateful. You notice the fires near him seem to die more quickly than they should. Very interesting. Silently you make note of it to Mind.

"Who are you?" He demands.

Oh, his voice is worse up close! It thrums through your body for just a moment before the Machine Weave compensates. It's lucky he gave you so much voice sampling shouting his demands to the city before, enough for you and Mind to program countermeasures into your Machine Weave ahead of time.

You give your haughtiest laugh, cranking up the volume. You're totally willing to engage in banter if it will buy you more time. "Ho~ho~ho~! Ha~ha~ha~! Do you mean to say you've come to my city, my very own realm, and you know nothing of me? What a great and terrible fool you must be!"

"I heard this city was plagued by a menace." He snarls, "A relentless foe that fought this so-called hero with unrelenting tenacity. Are you he?"

"Oh, I am not a 'he'." You correct.

"Fine, are you she?" He asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Not a she, either."

His eyes narrow. "You cannot be neither. What's betw-"

**_BOOM!_ **

The I-beam, diving straight down from the sky, hits the speed of sound an instant before it hits him. You've always prided yourself on timing. It's merely a matter of style to choose between letting the gag play out, or interrupting him mid-question. The up side with this, you might be able to use it later to stall him once more. Of course, it's a matter of your skill with forethought to have Mind send the Mag Drones out to set up a makeshift aerial rail cannon and load it with building debris. The I-beam strikes and dives deep into the ground, driving hard with your Magnetic Manipulators adding force until it heats, then melts all at once.

You know where he stopped, you watch carefully. Your systems, fortunately, react faster than you do with the heat bloom suddenly forms, yanking you aside as a black beam of energy erupts from the around, passing through where your chest was an instant before, and singeing your cloak. The damage to the cloak is fortunate, as it provides you and Mind with valuable data. One part of you analyses all of this, the rest is screaming "FUCK SHIT FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK I'M GONNA DIE" but that's normal for these kinds of situations. Right? Probably.

You fire up the micro-fusion pack. Power begins building as you rise into the air. Every instant you are not an expanding cloud of superheated protons is a little victory of science. Your enemy erupts from the pavement, like black pus from an especially angry zit. Molten steel and melted tar roll off him, the steel is nearly cold as it falls away, your infrared scan tells you. One thing that isn't being absorbed is light, or anything from the electromagnetic spectrum. He's definitely absorbing heat, possibly kinetic energy as well, he may well be returning Pulsar's own energy to her. But most importantly, Mind has analyzed the beam that singed your cloak. Superheated plasma may be dangerous, but it's oh so easy to manipulate. Yes, everything is going exactly as planned. Because you definitely had a plan coming out here and aren't just wildly grabbing at any straw you can to stay alive another minute.

"I see you are not willing to do what it takes," The Darkness snarls, "to bring down the false idols of this world."

"My apologies but I must be terse. I've no time for speeches today." You reply in you most condescending and haughty tone. "And to put it simply, your type is just too _boring_ for me."

"Delusional fool! You think this a game?" He shouts.

You raise your hand, pointing at him with a finger gun. A silly little gesture that prepares your prototype. You might even keep it. "Darling, of course not. This is all a little play."

His face contorts with rage, he raises his fist and throws a "punch" at you.

You're ready, Mind is ready. You know his tricks and his power You know his weakness. You now have the upper hand [as long as you don't explode in the next instant]. Superheated protons strike your chest, but not quite. Your magnetic rig captures it, compresses it, passes it into the array of tiny fusion reactors where it becomes even more power. The massive surge of electrical energy passes through super-conducting channels, powers the array of emitters in your, charging them, more and more until they go way past your projected limits. He stops, stares at you in shock as the last of his blast is sucked into your rig. You're humming with power; overloads are starting to arc around you.

"No more speaking lines for you." You say, and drop your thumb.

You didn't set out to build a two-hundred petawatt full spectrum laser, but that's where you ended up. It's maybe five times what you thought the system would take, but that's fine too. The beams that fire from your array, focused and amplified by magnetic constrictors, reflectors, and miniature magnetic lenses, is everything from gamma and hard x-rays, to microwaves and elf frequencies. Powered by his strike, amplified by your invention, focused into seven finger thin beams of blinding radiance. He holds up one hand to block just as you fire. The beams pierce his hand, his chest through his heart, several cars behind him, the street, the dirt below, probably the bedrock, and who knows what else. It lasts only a tenth of a second, but that's enough to burn pencil thin holes through his hand, his chest, and even bigger holes in everything behind him. New fires erupt and cars explode as The Darkness falls to the earth.

In the same moment, so you fall too. The superconductor channels melt and are automatically cast off by your machine weave. The tiny fusion reactors pop off and shoot away on little fusion plumes. Little explosive charges blast the emitter array off your arm. And now you have no power. This is bad because you're some thirty feet off the ground. Falling never hurts, it's all that pesky debris and hard pavement below that hurts. It hurts when your arm breaks, your ribs crack, and your head smacks into the pavement. Your vision swims with red. Your ears ring…or is that the invader screaming in rage and pain. Is your vision going dark or is he suddenly standing over you, about to slaughter you?

He coughs wetly, spitting up blood. "I see this is a city of idiots. Very well, I shall wipe it from the map, starting with your precious hero."

"W-wait!" You manage to gasp, and he stops turning to look at you. "Don't you want to know?"

"Know? Know what?" He growls.

"Don't you want to know what's between my-"

**_KROOOMMM~!_ **

Pulsar's fist slams into him with a sound like a concussion grenade. It's a very familiar sensation. There's a flash of silver and gold energy and suddenly the invader is gone and Pulsar is standing over you. Her boot touches your shoulder and suddenly you are healing. You manage not to scream in pain as your bones knit and your flesh pulls itself back together. Afterwards, you feel pretty great as you stand up. She looks untouched, except for the damage to her suit. Dark skin, unblemished, white, wavy hair floating like it's in zero gee, her amber-gold eyes gleaming with power. Gold and silver energy swirls around you, a signal you recognize, that she's gathering her full strength.

The Darkness pulls himself from the wall he's embedded in, spitting teeth and blood. "H…how?" He manages to croak out.

"Ever hear someone say "What doesn't kill you makes your stronger."? You know that little platitude?" She asks calmly in that wonderful deep, rich voice of hers. You could listen to her talk all day [ok settle down, this isn't the time for that].

"Yeah? It's horseshit." Ah, he's dropping the archaic speech pattern. He must be truly hurting. Good.

"For me, it's a literal truth."

You don't see the strike. All you see is a streak of gold and silver fire and energy; all you feel is a concussive blast washing over you. Then suddenly, Pulsar is floating where The Darkness was standing. The Darkness is now embedded in a wall two blocks away, it seems, limp as a wet rag.

When did she gain speedster level speed?

Then suddenly you're reminded why she doesn't often heal normal people of serious injuries, preferring to stabilize them only; exhaustion washes over you and you fall into darkness…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you wake up, you're in your cell. You cell in your cell block in the private prison you are the majority shareholder in. The private prison that you are the majority shareholder in, which, just after you arrived, underwent some major renovations and added a new block of cells. The new block of that needed to be built after you sued the city and the prison in a major discrimination case that required the renovation as part of the settlement. The settlement you agreed upon with the company you own that owns the prison. Sometimes you share the space with other criminals in similar need.

Pulsar is there, seated just outside the bars, waiting. You're totally fine, rested, even. There's not silver and gold light. She's dressed in street clothes. Deep purple hoodie, loose blue jeans, boots.

"So," She says, that rich velvety voice flowing over you, "that was quite a thing."

"Yes." You agree. "A thing. How are you feeling?"

"Remember when your goon Molly shot me?"

You nod.

"Like that."

The explains the sudden use of super-speed. You wonder what else she can do now. Just how elevated is she? You'll need data, you can't fail to keep up with her, that would be rude.

"Where's dark guy?" You ask.

"Contained. Watchtower came to collect him. But I think I could take him now, if we broke out. Funny thing is, they received a huge packet of raw data and analysis on his powers and abilities. Looks like it came from some kind of highly advanced sensor suite in close proximity to his active power."

"Weird." You say flatly.

She nods, "Must be a very brave good citizen out there."

"That must be it." You agree, "Obviously, I would never release such valuable information freely."

The silence stretches for over a minute. You really wish she would keep talking. You always enjoyed baiting her into banter during a battle, or ambushing her with just your presence and goading her into berating you for your terrible choices or immoral scheme. Especially when she couldn't quite disagree with your goals. That's always been your favorite thing, a goal that would probably have long term benefits for the people, even if it didn't look like it, accomplished through villainous means. Usually accompanied by a series of heists and other crimes.

"Why'd you do it?" She asks quietly.

You can't help the coy smile that appears, nor the teasing tone you use to answer. "Because I love you, obviously."

She rolls her eyes and stands to go. "Fine, don't be serious."

"See you at dinner~." You call after her as she leaves.

She doesn't reply and you flop back down on your bed with a sigh. "I _am_ being serious." You whisper.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Pulsar…**

Pulsar hovers high above the city, five hundred meters in the air, stretched out as if laying on a bench. It's something that comes easy now, after years of practice. Now as she begins to feel the limits of her new power, it's something she'll be able to do without even thinking.

"Fuuuuck……" She moans as she rotates idly in the air, head dipping, feet rising, until she's look up, down at the city.

How many times has Menace tricked her? How many seemingly laudable goals has she had to put a stop to because of some apparent poison pill or corrupted secondary objective? They're a true villain, a criminal through and through. They try to force changes, either by threat, bribery, or both and then some. They'd all agreed, her, Blue Shift, and Xenomech, back then; Menace has to be stopped because they'll end up corrupting even their most noble goals. How angry had she been every time she'd been forced to put a stop to something that could have great results, but was founded in corrupt motives and fear?

 _"Because I love you, obviously."_ The words ring in her ears.

And, of course, they have to say it in such a way her heart skips a beat and her face gets hot. How long have they been able to do that? Years now? When did she start looking at Menace and thinking about what it'd be like to just…relax with them? Or what it might be like to touch them, kiss them, hold them close…

She rotates further and stares at the starts. Wouldn't it be nice of an alien or a meteorite suddenly appeared to distract her right now? Why does the universe have to leave her alone with her thoughts like this? Maybe if she could just convince them, they could turn away from trying to do good in such a terrible way. Then maybe it could work. It can't work any other way, right?

No, it could never work out between them.

Probably.

Right?


	2. Menace #2 - Support Your Local Villain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Menace 2020 - Admit it, you want to see what happens.
> 
> [The rewrite continues!]

**Location: The Dive Bar…  
[That's its name. It's the only dive bar named The Dive Bar.]**

The meeting taking place in this deliberately seedy, mostly hidden from the public, but strangely well stocked bar is certainly a strange one. For starters, Flamestrike is there, instead of his usual cop-friendly bar [which is to say, one owned and operated by Red Water Security]. He's in his full combat gear, super suit, utility belt, the works. It's decorated all in red, yellow, and blue flames. His new protégé, the young [but not too young to drink, thanks, here's my ID, I'll have mezcal and lime] and headstrong Mercury is with him.

"Something needs to be done!" Flamestrike has finally started shouting, tired of everyone here coming for food and drinks on his tab, and then treating it as a social gathering. "Menace _cannot_ get away with this!" He slaps the table, sending little sparks everywhere.

"Hey! Fucking fire-pig! Some of us got flammable drinks here!" Midnight shouts.

Midnight, terror of violent drug kingpins, rapists, and stalkers throughout the city, is a few seats down from Mercury. She's got a higher kill count than any anti-hero in the city, and is known for totally ruthless efficiency. She never tries to punish or make speeches. The rapists and budding drug kingpins die without a word and often without a sound. Stalkers get the unholy shit scared out of them and typically leave town within twenty-four hours.

Flamestrike ignores Midnight. He's been trying to pin her down for murder for almost ten years with no success. A killer that leaves no traces besides a cleanly cauterized hole or two through the victim's heart or head and is never seen is difficult to prosecute. Add to that his total inability to actually physically pin her down and arrest her renders the lack of evidence moot.

"Listen," Flamestrike looks every low level hero, anti-hero, and slightly warm-blooded merc that's decided to attend in the eyes. "We all have our differences. I've tried to arrest a few people here, but we need to set all that aside and focus on the larger threat here. Menace is a born criminal and he has nothing but-"

"She." One of the heroes corrects. "I've faced her before. Menace is definitely not a he."

The hero speaking up is Phantom Noir. He's a legend. Confirmed to have been active since the thirties, nobody alive knows very much about him. His only confirmed power, something he calls Slow Time, that seems to reduce a target's time-flow to one percent of normal. After that, he usually leaves the situation unless a beating is merited, which is when the brass knuckles come out. Even then, he rarely uses his own super power. He's know to carry an original Colt 1911 .45 Pistol, but only gets it out for Nazis and other fascists. If he runs out of ammunition that's when a nasty-looking trench knife comes out and the end result makes the news. As usual, he's wearing his fedora, trench coat and domino mask. Unlike his old pictures, where he wore all dark greys, his most recent fedora is a deep blue. Rumor has it, it's a gift from Menace to a respected adversary. The domino mask hasn't changed, bright scarlet, like fresh blood, contrasting with his dark brown skin. In spite of the colors, his first impression on everyone is that of greyscale with a hint of stuttering flicker, as if he's still being presented in a 30's movie theater.

"No, Menace uses neutral pronouns, they and them." Mercury corrects. "They told me."

"What? When did they tell you that?" Flamestrike demands. "Did you get into a fight I don't know about?"

"No, we attend the same support group for gender-fluid and gender-neutral superheroes and villains." Mercury replies.

Mercury is a slight figure compared to most at the table. Their skin is the color of dull iron tonight, with a hint of reddish oxidation to form sharp eyeliner wings and lipstick. Their clothes seem oddly metallic as well. Most don't know it but they don't really wear clothes, they simply extrude a flexible weave from their own body and "wear" that instead. Mercury can be any stable metal element or alloy if they understand it well enough. They can even produce oxides to add color to their clothes and skin. They also tend to sift from feminine to masculine appearances from day to day, though they also prefer neutral pronouns.

A figure in a dark hoodie and hidden face speaks up next to Mercury, "That's right. They've never said it publicly, but if you ask during a fight, or just a conversation, they'll tell you."

"Fine, fine, it doesn't matter. My point is, we need to get organized and-"

"Yeah and who's gonna organize us? You?" Midnight demands. "Call me crazy but so far, I don't care if Menace is mayor. Hell, the way they forced the election to be so transparent and accessible, and all the promises they've made, what they've done already seizing those empty apartments and moving the homeless into them. It kinda looks like they're serious about helping the city. That's always been Menace's thing right?"

"Hrm…" Phantom Noir grunts, "Sure can't argue with that. Seen a lotta villains that made big promises for the people. Menace must be the only one I've ever seen that actually helped the working man."

"Or working woman." Midnight adds.

"Yup." Noir agrees.

"Or working person." Mercury adds right away.

"Them too." Phantom Noir says, "I dunno if they're a commie or what, but they're already doin' more for the Proletariat than the damn reds ever managed."

"But there's always some deeper plan with Menace." Flamestrike argues. "And if we just stand by and watch, it'll be over before we can prove they've committed a crime!"

"Maybe the plan is Eat the Rich." Midnight jokes.

"Hell, I'll drink to that." Noir says and raises his glass. Midnight toasts with him and they both down their drinks. Several others at the table do so as well.

"This isn't funny!" Flamestrike shouts, pounding his fist on the table and standing up. "You can't just sand by and let him-"

"Them." The shadowy figure insists, louder this time.

"Fuck it doesn't matter-"

"It matters to _me_." The figure insides and there is a sudden flare of gold and silver light as their eyes flash with power. Sweeping back their hood to reveal dark skin and pure white hair. "So, what's the problem here Flametrike. You can get my pronouns right; you can get Mercury's right; but not Menace. What's the difference?"

Several chairs get scooted back in alarm. Exclamations like "Oh fuck it's Pulsar." And "Should we run?" ripple not just around the room, but around the bar as well.

"Pulsar? You're back?" Flamestrike look suddenly nervous and finally embarrassed. "Look, you're different. You're-"

"Stuff it, Frank." Pulsar interrupts, "You haven't changed in fifteen years, I'm not going to expect it any time soon. But the least I can expect from you is to at least not insult people like me and Mercury here by misgendering someone when we're _sitting right next to you_. You're a really shitty friend sometimes you know that?"

Flamestrike can't say anything. It's obvious he knows what he did wrong, doesn't want to admit it, and bristles at the idea of changing his behavior when someone else tells him to. Why should a criminal deserve dignity anyway?

"But what's really disappointing is you, of all people, who taught me to never ever get involved in politics, plotting a coup. Why? because you decided that this time, a criminal can't be mayor. Not all the other blatantly corrupt mayors of the past, oh no, they had the right to due process and needed heavy proof to prosecute. And they never were. But this time the one you hate, who humiliated you _one time_ , that's the one that's gotta go no matter the means. Extra credit for plotting it while I'm away mentoring. Real _fucking_ classy."

Flamestrike takes a deep breath and seems to recover a bit of his bluster, if not his dignity. "Pulsar, you _know_ they're up to something criminal."

"No kidding. They're Menace, it's what they do. But this action was legal, it was transparent, it's been verified by anyone who means anything to the world at large. So we. Do not. Touch it." Pulsars last few words are punctuated by her finger tapping the table with little flares of light in the gold and silver tendrils flowing around her. "And I still can't believe I'm arguing this point with you, of all people. What's worse, if you go down this route, you're walking right into Menace's trap. This extreme level of legality is pointed right at you, Flamestrike. Are you going to prove you're just enough of a prideful idiot to fall for it?"

The two, the old mentor and his former student, exchange glares for a deadly quiet minute. Finally, Flamestrike scoffs and leaves the table.

"Fine. Fuck it. Just let Menace get away with it again. See if I care." He starts to leave, then goes to the bar and waits awkwardly, with Pulsar staring, while his food order is boxed up and he settles the tab with the Bartender. He then hustles out of the silent bar, Pulsar not quite literally burning holes in his back with her stare.

When he's gone she sighs. "I'm not sure if that worked."

Mercury speaks up next to her, "I haven't known him very long but, I don't think introspection is one of his strong suits."

"Frank's only strong suits are fighting and being a cop. He's a loyal friend and he knows what he's doing when it comes to the life, so listen to his advice. But he's also a shit friend when it comes to other things." Pulsar leans back in her chair. "I'm Pulsar by the way, not sure if you caught that." And she offers her hand to Mercury.

Mercury grins and shakes her hand. "Mercury. So, is Pulsar really your only name? Like it's also your legal name?"

"Really is." Pulsar answers, "It is who and what I am."

As the two begin to talk, the spy camera feed is switched off. There's nothing new to learn here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**The Villain: Menace**

As you switch off the surveillance feed you sigh in satisfaction as you lean back in your big, comfortable, mayoral chair. The fact that your new office is installed in your prison doesn't matter to you. Everything is proceeding according to your design. Flamestrike will prove to be an unstable element, and you will have to make ready for that. You suppose he has some right to be upset at your landslide election. You did cheat, in a manner of speaking, but only by doing things in a way nobody else has ever done them. You used robotic drones to deliver voter registration paperwork to everyone in the city. You even included the homeless population, with P.O. Box for each one. Not technically illegal, as the city only requires a _mailing_ address to vote, not a physical one. It's true you bribed many election officials, not illegal because the city has long promised to make bribery illegal, and never actually achieved it. As a result, mail-in ballots went out to every registered voter in the city, 95% of the voting age population. Then the same drones went out to collect the mail, returning all ballots directly to the election commission. Thereby bypassing the numerous efforts to stop you by slowing down the mail. Further bribes ensured all the ballots were counted, and reported, accurately. In full view of the public, recorded for posterity, streamed on multiple platforms. You didn't need to tamper with the ballots, all the candidates were wildly unpopular while you've been something of a public darling to the working class for over a decade. Given the opportunity to vote for someone whose criminality is open and honest, the people leapt at the chance. You told the people they'd want to see what happens with you as mayor, and they agreed. At least, 80% of those who cast their ballots wanted to. It's actually a bit surprising, you'd actually expected them to vote in the other social reform candidate, you'd even endorsed her. She's certainly more experienced in politics than you are.

No matter, you've invited her to be your Deputy Mayor. She's busy firing people and having them arrested for corruption. Perhaps she'll let the power go to your head and you can bond while laughing maniacally.

Of course, what really has you smiling is Pulsar telling off Flamestrike for his blatant misgendering. Gods he's such a prick. You understand Pulsar's relationship with him. He truly is the very picture of a loyal friend. You've faced them both as a team more than once, and they're quite dangerous that way too.

Of course, you're also glad it looks like Mercury is ready to move on from being mentored by Flamestrike. They've learned a lot, you know, Flamestrike really does know how to train a quality superhero. But he can't hang on to a trainee for longer than a year. Except for Shadow Blade, that poor boy. You're certain Flamestrike still blames you for that tragedy. The very public and humiliating battle with him two years ago isn't the only reason he hates you with a literally burning passion.

But, enough reminiscing, you have work to do. You're fairly certain you can fund three new public hospitals just by taking advantage of the loopholes in existing city contracts with private corporations. Loopholes included by their own lawyers. And then there's the road and public transportation projects, the school reconstruction initiative…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**The Hero: Pulsar**

Pulsar hovers, hanging upside down, watching Menace through the huge picture window of their primary prison cell. It has prison bars, naturally, but it's still huge. Menace, the new Mayor of Xanadu, is hard at work on a half dozen projects to benefit the poorest population of the city. It looks as if they've moved on from the housing project to…she squints, enhanced vision focusing on the paperwork…schools and the free college promises they made. Meanwhile she's heard the Deputy Mayor is on the warpath, clearing out every corrupt department leader she can get her hands on before they quit.

 _They're doing it._ She thinks to herself. _Sure, it's unethical in so many ways. But they might really be doing it._

Maybe it's just wishful thinking. Menace always seems to have some self-serving goal in mind behind whatever good thing they do. It's just how they operate. But the secret goal never truly seems to harm most of the people, always the wealthy. She wonders, sometimes, what the point in fighting them all the time has been over the past fifteen years. She wonders if she would have tried to stop them. She's been away for weeks, she forgot about the election, because Watchtower had approached her for recruitment. She'd accepted. Threats to the city requiring her intervention are rare these days. There are other heroes, younger ones, filling the roles she did when her powers much less than they are now.

 _Maybe I should go talk to them._ She considers the thought. _I could get a better handle on what they're up to. And we haven't had our dinner in weeks._

It seems like a good idea. For intel gathering, not for any other reason. She could get takeout from The Dive Bar.

Yeah, for intel gathering. Not for that sly smirk that gets her heart racing. Certainly not that diabolical laugh that makes her shiver so pleasantly. Definitely not to experience that mind that's always pushed her to be better, built tech to counter every boost in power she's ever achieved through training or battle. The keen intellect that somehow managed to teach her to think in new ways over the years, even as they outmaneuvered her in sometimes embarrassing ways.

Not because she enjoys their presence and wants to spend time with her dear friend after weeks of absence.


End file.
